


Let Go Your Heart/Let Go Your Head

by ouroboros



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Compliant, First Time, Hair-pulling, Hand Jobs, Internal Conflict, M/M, Making Out, Oral Sex, Porn with Feelings, Self-Esteem Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-26
Updated: 2015-06-26
Packaged: 2018-04-06 07:04:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4212450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ouroboros/pseuds/ouroboros
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The idea of waiting for Gansey to kiss him first seems like hell. He could bite at the skin on his lip and stare Gansey down, waiting for him to clear his throat one more time, and shift on the bed, and eventually, maybe (probably not), make a move. But Adam doesn’t want that, and he is tired, so fucking tired of waiting, so he doesn’t.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let Go Your Heart/Let Go Your Head

**Author's Note:**

> I care about Adam/Gansey so goddamn much, and there is just not enough of it in the world. Please accept this humble offering. 
> 
> Also, thanks so so much to [Perculious](http://archiveofourown.org/users/perculious) and [Stereosymbiosis](http://archiveofourown.org/users/stereosymbiosis) for their beta. Without them this would not have seen the light of day.

They’re sitting on Gansey’s bed, only inches apart, staring each other down. The room is finally quiet.

They’re up late, almost-arguing, which was a thing they’ve taken to doing, now that they’re close again. They hadn’t quite fought, but they’re close enough to disagreeing and even closer to something else entirely that Adam isn’t sure where to direct his energy. He has learned, though, that a predatory look like the one he’s burning into Gansey right now is enough to make whatever he’s saying devolve into mumbles. Mumbles that, before now, had always turned into a politely cleared throat and a changed subject and a step backward.

Adam doesn’t have to look away from Gansey’s face to be able to tell that he’s trying to keep his chest still and his shaky exhales contained. He’s trying not to breathe too much in Adam’s space, and realizing that is what pushes Adam over the edge. Because of course Gansey is _minty fucking fresh_ , as always. He’s only holding himself back because his Rules of Conduct are ten miles long and every single one is about how to act around Adam.

It infuriates him, and he wants to grab Gansey and shake him loose, into his _real_ self under all the respectable layers. Maybe then he’d be able to see Adam, all of him at once. Get a fucking eyeful so he’d know, finally, what Adam was actually like, and stop acting like he _wants_  it.

The idea of waiting for Gansey to kiss him first seems like hell. He could bite at the skin on his lip and stare Gansey down, waiting for him to clear his throat one more time, and shift on the bed, and eventually, maybe (probably not), make a move. But Adam doesn’t want that, and he is tired, so fucking tired of waiting, so he doesn’t.

He takes Gansey’s face in both his hands and pulls it toward his own. He half expects Gansey to jerk away, but he doesn’t.

Gansey makes a soft " _ah"_  sound, like he’s surprised, right when Adam’s lips touch his. He leans into it, into Adam, a loose fist resting on Adam’s knee.

The way Adam kisses is hungry. His fingernails are sharp against Gansey’s jaw, and the sounds he is making are not things he can control. Gansey is kissing back like he is a bit out of his element, like he’s taking a moment to take in what is happening to him. Adam doesn’t know how to give that to him, which just makes him feel worse.

Adam had thought Gansey would fight him for it. He had pictured (because he _had_  pictured it, more times than he would readily admit to) it being a mad jumble of limbs, both of them panting hard, teeth on each other’s throats. Something he would have to push against and come out on top.

Gansey isn’t pushing back, though. His fingers are light on Adam’s back, and his breaths are shaky against Adam’s mouth. Adam screws his eyes shut, because he knows if he opens them, Gansey will be looking at him, wide-eyed and expectant, and he isn’t sure he can take that.

Gansey takes Adam’s hand and puts it on his waist, and Adam takes mental stock of the situation. His _mouth is on Gansey’s mouth,_  and Gansey, all soft sighs and more tongue than Adam expected, is not hiding his enjoyment. Adam tries to parse this. He is pretty sure that this is the kind of thing he should be happy about, but he can’t find that feeling anywhere.

All he can find is the fire and anger and horror that lives in his mind, and all he can feel is how desperate he is to show it to Gansey. He knows it is a twisted thing, but he wonders, as he tucks a finger into the elastic waistband of Gansey’s stupidly soft pajama pants, what it would be like to tear down the easy, beautiful guise of Gansey, to make him look how Adam always feels: wrecked and hollow and needy.

Adam stops, shaken. He pulls back. “Gansey, are you sure you want…” he starts to say, and shakes his head. He should leave. This was a bad idea, he’s made a bad decision, he _is_  a bad decision.

“Sure I want what, Adam? This?” Gansey interrupts Adam’s inner terror, his hand fluttering between them. “You?” His voice is soft. “I don’t get to tell you what _you_  want. It goes both ways.”

Adam swallows. It’s a logical thing Gansey just said, but he can’t make himself believe it. He lets himself look at Gansey’s mouth, and god, his lips are kiss-plump and red.

Gansey notices him looking, and smiles (the bastard). He kisses Adam again, deep, and Adam wants to pull away, but the heat is building back up in his gut, and when his teeth catch Gansey’s lip, he moans.

He _moans_ , and Adam hates how good it sounds. Gansey is not supposed to want this. Adam knows, already, what he is, and he knows he is rubbing Gansey’s clean face in the dirt of it. He wants to ask if he’s worth it. He’s sure he knows the answer.

He doesn’t ask that, though. Not yet. Instead, and because he can think of no better way to make it worse, he slides his hand under Gansey’s shirt and slips his fingers down his abs and just under the wasitband of his pants.”Gansey?” He knows what he’s asking, but he doesn’t know how to ask it.

Luckily for him, Gansey is Gansey, so he knows what Adam means, not that it was the farthest leap. Gansey nods. ‘Yes,” he breathes softly against Adam’s cheek. Adam grits his teeth and slides his hand down Gansey’s pajama pants.

“Oh!” Gansey says, as his cock, which is embarrassingly hard already, jumps against the pressure of Adam’s palm. “Oh!” he says again. He rests his forehead against Adam’s, his eyes closed, his mouth a pretty O. His hips raise. Adam wraps his fingers tentatively around him.

Gansey stops Adam’s hand, and for a moment, Adam thinks he’s finally seen sense. He’s ashamed of how sad it makes him. But then Gansey’s nimble fingers are at the top button of his pajama shirt. He shrugs his clothes off eagerly, gracefully. A muscle tenses in Adam’s jaw.

Gansey reaches for Adam’s belt, but he catches his wrist. Gansey looks at him, pupils blown.

“Adam, please.”

Adam answers with a sharp shake of his head.

“I can do it.” It’s stubborn and stupid, but he can’t help it.

Gansey follows instructions, putting his hands in his lap. His eyes don’t leave Adam’s fingers as he unbuttons his pants himself.

When they’re both naked, Gansey lays back down against the pillow and looks up at Adam, not bothering, anymore, to hide the deep-heaving want in the rising of his chest. His hair is falling in an expertly mussed tumble across his forehead, fanned out in a halo of short, loose curls around the crown of his head.

He’s beautiful, this boy. He’s clean and righteous and solid, and the line of his jaw is so, so perfectly straight. Adam can’t take it. He straddles Gansey, moving his hips down against him, their cocks hot and hard between them.

They grind against each other, the sweat between them easing the friction of it. Gansey makes a high, unbalanced sound when Adam wraps his hand around both of them at once. Adam keeps the rhythm of his hand steady, but he opens his eyes when he hears it. He can’t _not_  look at Gansey. He hopes he can get away with it unnoticed, but Gansey’s eyes are there, clear and genuine and reflecting everything Adam is feeling back at him.

Adam shudders, shaken, and focuses the movements of his hands on only Gansey. He lifts himself up, resting his bony haunches on the soft white of Gansey’s thighs. He licks one hand and wraps it around Gansey’s cock. The other hand slides up Gansey to where his wrists are crossed above his head, like they were waiting to be pinned.

With each hard bite at Gansey’s neck, he makes this _sound,_ like he’s given up on acting affronted, and is just experiencing it. This isn’t what Adam expected. Frustration wells in his throat and he squeezes harder against Gansey’s wrists, feeling the bones shift under the pressure of his thumbs. Gansey groans, arching his body up.

Adam wants to know what other sounds Gansey has in him, so he lets go of his wrists, and Gansey’s face  has the nerve to slide almost into a pout. Adam, teeth clenched, pinches Gansey’s nipple. His eyelids flutter and he calls out, sweet, mouth wide and grinning.

“More.”

It’s terrifying, and beautiful, and Adam is sure he’ll regret it, but he growls assent and wrests his hand in Gansey’s hair, because Gansey wants it. He cries out immediately.

“Yes,” Gansey says. It’s indecent. God, it’s not a sound Adam would ever have expected from Gansey, but it’s pouring out of him, raw and hungry, with every tug at his scalp. The curve that Gansey’s throat makes as he cries out is honest and unafraid. So he bites at it.

Adam asks, heart full of gravel and teeth full of Gansey’s neck, “Is this it? Is this what you wanted?”

“Yes, Adam. Yes.” Gansey whispers, and nods so emphatically that each jerk of his head ends in a yank of his hair, still bunched in Adam’s hand.

Adam doesn’t believe him. He can’t. He tightens his fingers on Gansey’s hair, on his cock. The words pour out of his mouth before he can check them. “Then take it.”

Gansey starts shaking against both hands, and Adam is suddenly, despairingly, full of the knowledge that he has no idea what Gansey’s face looks like when he is about to orgasm. He doesn’t look. Instead, he sucks a mark into the soft part of Gansey where his neck meets his collarbone, and Gansey makes a wild, broken noise and comes into Adam’s hand.

It takes Adam a few seconds to look him in the eye.

He feels raw; a wet and awful thing, and he is sure, now, that Gansey can see. He waits for the fallout, for Gansey to realize his mistake and push him off, and recoil in shame, a sheet wrapped around his waist, stumbling backward.

But he doesn’t.

Gansey doesn’t look angry or scared or anything else Adam trained himself to expect. He looks fucked out and happy and not any less beautiful than he did before Adam wrecked him. He didn’t have to fight against himself in order to come. Gansey came because he wanted to, and because Adam made it happen. This realization hits him hard. It isn’t an evil sort of power to wield over Gansey. It’s a different, more potent and sweet thing, and it flies through Adam's veins.

Adam doesn’t know what to do. He’s up on an elbow above Gansey, trying to even his breathing, but he’s still hard. He closes his eyes, not sure what to do with his body, or with the shaking, warm, happy boy underneath him.

Gansey laughs, gently, and runs his fingers down Adam’s arm, across his waist and down against his ass. Adam wants to keep his eyes closed forever. He wants to will Gansey into existing elsewhere, to will his erection into a similar state of nonexistence, but he can’t.

So he makes himself open his eyes, and Gansey is looking up at him through his sweat-tightened curls, the same way Adam has seen him look when he first walks into Cabeswater. He looks at Adam like he is a holy thing.

Adam feels tight in his skin. He wants Gansey to leave, he wants Gansey to touch him, he wants something, anything to happen that makes sense. He needs it to make sense.

Gansey moves like it makes sense to him. He smiles raggedly and twists his body to line up against Adam’s. He kisses him, sloppy and warm and wet, like it is okay. Then he moves his body down Adam’s.

Gansey’s tongue is eager on Adam’s chest, and his abs, and his cock. Adam wonders, for the first time, if he is something Gansey has been wanting to taste. He lets go of the tense muscles in his arms, in his jaw, in his thighs that want to prove him wrong.

It isn’t perfect, and he isn’t sure if that is possible, for them, but Gansey’s mouth on Adam’s is slow and reverent. He tries taking more of Adam in, but comes up sputtering. He smiles up at Adam, shrugging, like it was anyone’s mistake to make, not knowing how much cock one might fit in one’s perfect mouth before choking.

He gets back to it, wrapping one hand around the base, making up for his tongue’s lack of reach. His other hand runs smooth and sure up Adam's stomach and chest and then down his arm, clenching tight around his wrist.

A flash of nerves blaze in Adam’s mind, because what if this is the force he'd imagined, if this was Gansey pushing back, making Adam pay for all he wanted. But as soon as he thinks it,  Gansey lifts Adam's hand and places it in his own hair, squeezing his fingers on Adam's briefly and then letting go.  

When Adam tightens his grip in his curls, Gansey hums louder.

He looks up at Adam and he's not smiling, his mouth is too busy for that (oh, god), but he looks studious, and concentrated, and happy. He pulls his head against Adam's grip, and the sound he makes when Adam's fingers don't loosen reverberates on Adam's skin.

Adam is frozen, his knuckles white in Gansey's hair and his eyes locked on the way Gansey's eyelashes brush dark against his cheeks like he could be in a makeup commercial. Whatever kind of makeup people put on eyelashes. Adam can't quite make his brain pull up the word and he is annoyed at himself for trying.

Because the way Gansey is moving is honest. It's the same way he looked when he had walked into Adam's court date, as bizarre as that thought feels as it grates in his brain. Gansey striding into a courtroom, nervous and well-dressed and open and whole and full of love is the same Gansey that buries what he can of Adam into his mouth. He's _trying_. He's putting his whole self into the thing he is doing, and he is hoping he makes it work, the way he makes everything work, with some innate infuriating gift, and Adam is there, finally ready to think about receiving it.

Under Gansey's hands, Adam starts to feel like his body is working. He closes his eyes and lets himself move with it. He lines the hand not tight in Gansey’s hair along his jaw, and lets himself fuck harder into his mouth. Because he wants to, and, he is realizing with every pretty pained noise he makes, that Gansey wants it, too.

Adam comes the way an avalanche falls down a mountain: something held up and only released because it has to be, cascading down on itself in an inevitable, cold and terrified storm. Gansey grounds him, his thumbs solid against Adam’s sharp, freckled hipbones. He makes warm, humming, contented noises against Adam.

Adam knows he only swallows because he wants to prove he could, and Adam wants to be annoyed at him for it, but he can’t muster up the will. Gansey looks so pleased with himself as he crawls up Adam’s body.

When they make eye contact, though, something shifts. Gansey’s eyebrows slant down at the thin, manicured ends, his smile moves from brilliant and wide to small and modest, like the edge of an eclipse on the still glowing moon.

Adam knows the look that Gansey is trying to keep from his face--it’s a combination of nervous and hopeful that a few months ago Adam would have seen only as smug. The hope is nice to see, though, and Adam wants more of it. So he lets himself smile, and tries to find a place for his hand on Gansey's side.

“Adam,” Gansey starts.

Adam knows his words are welling up behind his teeth, and he is not really capable of stopping them, but Adam can’t help but be afraid, so he says, “I’m not yours, now.”

Gansey’s face relaxes back into itself, and he sputters, looking at Adam the way Adam has seen him look at maps and books and the stars. It’s want, he knows that, but it is also awe. “I know that.”

“Good,” is all Adam can say, and he feels it shake loose from his throat. He nods, two downward shakes of his head, and then Gansey, satisfied, wraps himself around his body. He fits against him in ways Adam did not expect. It’s warm, though. He lets Gansey tuck his ankle around his calf, like it is a thing that is normal.

“You’re yours. You’re _you_ ,” Gansey says, his eyes soft and brown and wide open.

That fills Adam up, up to his neck in waves of fearful knowledge. It's too much, and he is ready to be done talking about it. He looks down at the broad, tanned plane of Gansey's chest. He'd seen it before, in the moments when Gansey would let himself show off, but now it is different. the light tan of him is peppered, temporarily ruined, maybe, by the bite marks Adam has left on him. He presses a thumb into the blooming red below his jaw. It hits him that it will be a bruise, and Adam’s lungs tighten in panic, but then Gansey just smirks, the curve of his mouth finding its comfortable way back onto his face. "I like it. You could bite harder, even. If you wanted."

Gansey kisses Adam, soft, and he feels his heart rate slow.

Gansey’s gaze slides, and he’s looking at Adam’s chest, sunken and mottled and bony, but he kisses just under his nipple, and then his neck, his jaw. They’re all weak spots, all places he never anticipated having things as lush as Dick Fucking Gansey’s lips on, but there they are. Gansey sighs contentedly, and before he buries his face into Adam’s neck, he looks up at him like he is someone worth seeing. Adam can’t quite make that make sense in his mind, but dedication is written all over Gansey’s face, buried tight under the pressure of his fingertips on Adam’s  shoulder, and, for the first time, he gives Gansey the benefit of the doubt.

**Author's Note:**

> If you want it  
> Come and get it  
> Crying out loud  
> The love that I was  
> Giving you was  
> Never in doubt  
> Let go your heart  
> Let go your head  
> And feel it now  
> \- [Babylon- David Gray](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zI_SBAkdKzc)
> 
> For the love of god, talk to me about Adansey, either in the comments or [on tumblr](http://ouroborosbites.tumblr.com/)


End file.
